


Untitled Frerard Drabble

by bishopsknifetrick (cherryblossomstump)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drabble, Fluff, Frerard, M/M, but not anymore, its so short what, so forgive me if it's off, this is trash. i am trash, this was originally with OC's, under 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblossomstump/pseuds/bishopsknifetrick
Summary: The short high school au that's totally overdone now but oh wellbased off the tumblr prompt: I sat down in the wrong class and I'm panicking but don't want to get up because the class has started and you think it's hilarious shut up you dumb fuck you don't know me ahhhhhalso this is in first person pov i know i hate it too but i don't want to edit it





	

In my defense, it had been a long day. It was the second-to-last period of the day, that much I knew. Not much else, as I had stayed up until like 1 am last night finish this book I was reading- IT WAS A REALLY GOOD BOOK OKAY. I felt like there was a cloud hanging over my mind, a haze that I couldn’t shake free. Everywhere I went it was there, looming over me, which is why I veered into the classroom on my left and immediately sat down in my usual seat in the back.

Interesting trivia about my teachers: none of them bother with attendance. They don’t care if you aren’t there. You need to approach them and actually say that. They’re all about ‘responsibility’ nowadays, and that’s what caused me to just sit there like an idiot until I finally realized. That kid- the really attractive one who kept glancing at me- was right to keep looking at me.

Another interesting trivia: our school switched off days to fit all of our classes in. One day would be one day of classes, the next a totally different schedule, switching off. The kid with bright orange hair that sat at the head of the class? Not there. Neither was the really obnoxious girl on my right. I had walked into the wrong classroom, but I couldn’t do anything about it since class had already started.

A wave of fear and embarrassment washed over me in a cold wave. The tips of my fingers spread the frost up my finger, in a clammy-cold sort of way. I was panicking. I had never skipped class before, never wanted to, but now how was I supposed to make up all of the work? The kids would notice I wasn’t there, and the rumours would spread that I had skipped. Except I hadn’t. I had gone to class, just not the right one.

Now that kid was holding in laughter. I was sure my face betrayed the terror and astonishment I felt. And maybe I shouldn’t have felt it that strongly, but I valued good grades and work being submitted on time. And now he was really ticking me off. It almost seemed like he was trying to get the teacher’s attention, with little gasps of laughter and a hand over his mouth. I made a face at him, my best “okay haha funny now shut up” look, which only made him laugh harder. The teacher’s head whipped around.

“Frank,” she snapped. “Is there a problem?”

He quieted down. “No, Miss Brown.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The encounter with the teacher seemed to have sobered him up a little but he still smirked my way. Here I was, sitting in a class I shouldn’t have been in, receiving homework I had already completed. And when the bell rang, I was up and out of my seat and out the door. It wasn’t fast enough, apparently.

Frank caught up with me in no time, which was impressive considering his height, and only had to look at me once before bursting into laughter. I let him laugh, all the way down the hall into the next section of the school to my locker. His was near mine, I thought, but I wasn’t sure. I probably wouldn’t find out because he leaned against the neighboring locker when I went to go switch schoolbooks.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced,” he said, eyes shining with amusement. “I’m Frank Anthony Iero, more commonly known as ‘hey, you,’ or ‘short kid’. But shhhhh,” he mimed shushing himself. “The last person who called me that... _disappeared_.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at his tough act as I closed my locker. “Well, Frank, my name is Gerard Arthur Way- yes, it’s a grandpa name- but people call me Gerard. My annoying friend Ray likes to call me Gerrybear so- you know what, it’s just Gerard.”

His eyes sparkled. “Well, _Gee_ ,” he emphasized. “I believe we have the next class together. May I walk you to class?” he asked with a little theatric bow.

I snorted. “In your dreams, Romeo, “ I said, even as I took his arm. We looked at each other as the late bell rang, before sprinting down the hallway, our smothered laughs and giggles bouncing off the walls.


End file.
